


The Way You Hold Your Knife

by hopeless_eccentric



Series: (Free! That's right! Free!) Penumbra Commissions [46]
Category: The Penumbra Podcast
Genre: Canon-Typical Vespa Being My Favorite Character Ever, Flirting, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Humor, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Minor Injuries, Other, Simp Peter Nureyev, it happens to the best of us, like. comedically minor and very loosely described, simp juno steel, sometimes you accidentally get distracted looking at your partner and stab yourself, teaching your partner to shoot, this is very fun
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-17
Updated: 2021-03-17
Packaged: 2021-03-25 16:42:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30092085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hopeless_eccentric/pseuds/hopeless_eccentric
Summary: “This is stupid,” Juno huffed, not inaccurately.“I don’t care if it’s stupid, Juno, I care that you’re bleeding,” Nureyev returned, pressing his hand on Juno’s back to steer him towards the medbay.Juno spent enough of his life regretting past decisions to occasionally entertain the idea of a time machine. It wasn’t something feasible, of course, but if he had the option to press replay on his life, there were a couple thousand things he’d do differently. The most notable of these had been about a minute ago, when a dare turned bet turned excuse for Nureyev to flirt with him ended up stabbing him in the back, or more accurately, the hand.Rec fill for @navyblueart !!
Relationships: Peter Nureyev/Juno Steel, Vespa Ilkay & Juno Steel
Series: (Free! That's right! Free!) Penumbra Commissions [46]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1921492
Comments: 26
Kudos: 118





	The Way You Hold Your Knife

**Author's Note:**

  * For [navyblueart](https://archiveofourown.org/users/navyblueart/gifts).



> hey all!! fuck this one was so fun i love it so much
> 
> Content warnings for blood mention and minor injury (this is written to be comedic so little time is spent on either of them!), vomit mention

“This is stupid,” Juno huffed, not inaccurately.

“I don’t care if it’s stupid, Juno, I care that you’re bleeding,” Nureyev returned, pressing his hand on Juno’s back to steer him towards the medbay.

Juno spent enough of his life regretting past decisions to occasionally entertain the idea of a time machine. It wasn’t something feasible, of course, but if he had the option to press replay on his life, there were a couple thousand things he’d do differently. The most notable of these had been about a minute ago, when a dare turned bet turned excuse for Nureyev to flirt with him ended up stabbing him in the back, or more accurately, the hand.

“I don’t see why I shouldn’t teach you to throw knives some time,” Nureyev had mused one morning after perusing the day’s calendar. “Maybe it wouldn’t do much to help you as a criminal, but I don’t think it would be so terrible to work on a new skill.”

Juno agreed with a shrug, the same way he had agreed to most of his worst mistakes. Even if he couldn’t see himself using a knife at any point in his criminal career when he’d put so much work into being adept with a blaster, he was all too happy for the excuse to keep himself busy.

At the very least, he’d had some amount of fun in the process of getting the scar.

Nureyev, of course, used the occasion to torment him, murmuring sweet nothings mixed in with his constructive criticism as he positioned and repositioned Juno’s arms. Juno would have gladly elbowed him in the ribs if not for his shit eating grin. At the end of the day, Nureyev was clearly having a blast, no matter how bad of a knife throwing instructor he was being in the process.

Juno, unfortunately, was not necessarily the model student. A year on Old Town’s Junior Varsity Frisbee Golf team in exchange for a gym credit also handed him enough transferable skills to make him a less than ideal victim for Nureyev’s barrage of knife throwing tips. Without much of anywhere to go as far as slipping in casual touches and standing a little too close for his own good, Nureyev resorted to demonstration instead.

Juno was always happy to watch Nureyev do something he knew he was good at, especially when he stood a little straighter and clenched his jaw and narrowed his eyes in focus. Skill was a good look on him, especially when he knew damn well how to show off. 

They’d worked together for long enough that Juno knew he didn’t need to flip the blade half as many times as he did. Regardless, that same fox’s smile slashed across Nureyev’s face as he spun the knife and sent it flying into the target.

It didn’t matter how many times Juno had seen it before. The look would always leave him a little slack jawed. And apparently slack-handed.

“Nureyev, I’m not gonna die just because I—”

Nureyev broke off his hiss by covering the injury with his free hand, continuing to herd him down the hallway. Juno grimaced at what blood was still visible from where he had been starstruck enough to drop the blade and stab himself, but had to hand it to Nureyev’s foresight for covering most of the injury before Juno could start to have a different medical need to worry about.

“I am well aware that you’re not going to die,” Nureyev swallowed, returning his hand to where it formerly squeezed Juno’s shoulder anyway. “That does not mean, however, that I have a single qualm about seeing you to our family doctor immediately.”

“I’ve had worse,” Juno grumbled.

“Dear.”

“What?”

Nureyev shook his head with a world-weary sigh and pressed Juno forward.

“Don’t you dare knock,” he hissed upon arriving at the clinic, his hand still a little too tight on Juno’s shoulder as he reached forward to tap his own knuckles upon the metal. “I beg your pardon, but is it—

“What the hell happened this time?” Vespa groaned before Nureyev could get out another word, blinking at Juno’s hand.

Juno swallowed.

“A minor accident with a knife in training,” Nureyev covered for him, his voice a little too fast to spare Vespa raising an eyebrow at both of them.

“So why are you hanging onto him like he needs a goddamn amputation?”

“I’m merely concerned for his wellbeing,” Nureyev answered evenly, though a slight twinge in his tone betrayed humor Juno would have been infinitely more enthusiastic to see had it not come at the price of both his hand and his pride.

“Okay, so I don’t believe you,” Vespa started, “but I also took an oath, so you get in here before I start to consider any medical malpractice. You can keep your emotional support boyfriend if it helps you with the blood, but I’m just warning you now, I’m not gonna be very happy about it.”

“We’re in the same room, Vespa,” Juno snorted, “you’re not gonna be happy about anything.”

“Shut the hell up or I’ll give you a real knife wound to worry about,” Vespa brushed him off as Nureyev herded him into the nearest chair, squeezing his uninjured hand all the while.

“Hey, isn’t there something in your training that says something about not antagonizing your patients?” Juno called.

“Dear,” Nureyev started.

“I don’t think you’re supposed to lie to your doctor either, Steel,” Vespa returned flatly as she came back to the chair’s side, medical supplies in hand. “What the hell actually happened?”

“I got distracted and dropped the knife,” Juno replied, voice a little too high for his own good. “What the hell else do you need to know?

“Come on,” Vespa huffed. “That’s all you’re gonna give me?”

“If I may ask,” Nureyev started, “I’m not entirely sure what you mean by that.”

Vespa paused a moment to retrieve her cleaning supplies, holding them back a moment and only proceeding with her treatment once she had begun to talk once more.

“If Steel’s focused on fighting with me, he’s not focused on the blood. I’ll clean up blood all day, but if I have to clean blood and puke, I’m wringing both of your scrawny necks, alright?” Vespa explained.

“Hey—”

“You’re doing wonderfully, my love,” Nureyev reminded Juno while Vespa mimed a hacking sound.

“Oh, barf.”

“Shut up.”

“That’s my point,” Vespa snorted. “If you can’t get your hands on high grade painkillers, a fight’s the next best thing.”

“High grade?” Nureyev sputtered.

“Shut up, I’ll only do an amputation if he really pisses me off,” Vespa waved him off, pausing to reach for the automatic stitcher.

“Hey, am I the only one a little worried about how you’ve been using goddamned mind games instead of pain medication—”

“Well maybe if you held still I wouldn’t have to waste my goddamn college psych credit on you, Steel,” Vespa huffed.

“She does have a point, you know.”

“You’re allowed to shut up now, Ransom,” Juno grumbled.

“Duly noted,” Nureyev chuckled, giving Juno’s hand an extra squeeze for good measure. “My apologies for distracting you, dear. I should have told you to set the blade down first.”

“Yeah, so about that,” Vespa pressed. “Am I gonna get to hear this goddamn story or what? You’re killing me, Steel. You can’t just wave this in front of my face like this.”

“Fine,” Juno huffed. “Since you’re gonna figure it out anyway, Ransom was trying to teach me how to throw knives, I got distracted watching his demonstration, then I dropped the knife and accidentally stabbed myself. Happy?”

Vespa didn’t answer verbally, though the victorious grin on her face was confirmation enough.

“Look, just because—”

“Your hand’s all stitched,” Vespa interrupted.

“Goddamn,” Juno breathed.

“Yeah, I get it, I’m the best damn physician you’ve ever had thanks to my ‘mind games’ or whatever the hell you called them. Just can it and get the hell out of here. I’m sick of looking at your face,” Vespa snorted.

“We’ll be on our way,” Nureyev agreed, seemingly all too happy to help Juno out of his chair and on his way, as if he had lost half the blood in his body, rather than the nearly pitiful amount compared to the worry etched into his brow.

“I’m not gonna die if you let me walk on my own,” Juno snorted.

“I think I’m gonna die if I have to see any of that contaminating my clinic,” Vespa huffed, making a shooing gesture more persuasive than any of Nureyev’s squeezes to the hand or firm half-embraces as they walked.

“You know,” Nureyev began as the pair of them crossed the threshold, “she was right about quite a lot of that.”

“Don’t tell me you’re taking her side—”

“I meant about the medical advice,” Nureyev added. “Perhaps I ought to antagonize you more often when you’re injured. You make a far better patient that way.”

“Nureyev,” Juno groaned, earning nothing but a fond laugh in return.

**Author's Note:**

> HELL YEAH I LOVE VESPA MAAM YOUR HAND IN MARRIAGE PLEASE
> 
> Thank you so much for reading!! Make sure to SMASH that kudos button and leave a comment down below or ill antagonize you i guess
> 
> Check me out on tumblr @hopeless-eccentric or on twitter @withane22 !!


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